


TLC is a Two-Way Street

by tameila



Series: The Sun Always Rises 'verse [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Just So Many Warm Feelings, Sick Character, The Jonas Brothers Get Mentioned (It's A Whole Thing)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tameila/pseuds/tameila
Summary: After a long week of separation and a bad week of life, Pike looks forward to some much needed TLC. Unfortunately, her boyfriend returns home a bit sicker than she would have liked. But - it’s okay. She’s good at being needed.





	TLC is a Two-Way Street

**Author's Note:**

> hello, hello! This was written for a lovely reader of mine, @mamzellecombeferre on tumblr, who requested a sick fic. I hope she enjoys this unfiltered, nonsensical fluff. She deserves it. We all deserve it!
> 
> & it's set vaguely somewhere in the future of TSAR so can be enjoyed without hope of spoiling anything no matter where you are in your reading.

Pike looks at the TV. Doesn’t watch, just looks. A sitcom plays – the kind with a tacky laugh track after every joke. She hears one now, like metal grating on her fraying nerves, but she turned down the volume during a commercial break some twenty minutes ago and never turned it back up; whatever joke was made is lost on her. It doesn’t matter. She does not watch the show, just kinda looks in between glances at the clock and the front door.

Scanlan should be home soon.

Her heart warms at the thought. A pleasant flutter that has her settling calmer on the couch.

She’s missed him this week.

Well, she _always_ misses him when he has to go away for work, but she especially missed him this time. It was not necessarily a bad week, just a long one with no lack of meetings and reminders to remember other reminders and smiling when manners called for it, not when personally desired. A week that would have been much improved with a singsong voice, the brightest smile known to Man (not biased), and gentle hands that lavish gentle attention – Scanlan’s special blend of lowkey TLC.

God - she really misses him. _Missed_ , her mind helpfully reminds her. He’ll be home soon, and she won’t have to feel icky present tense missing anymore.

Lost in her wistful yearning, she almost fails to hear the distant turn of the lock. _Almost_. Her mind quiets, her head tilts, and as soon as she hears the familiar rattle of keys against the doorside table, Pike jolts up on the cushions.

“Hey, baby,” she calls, twisting around to lean over the back of the couch. “Welcome home!”

Nothing answers her. No familiar voice singing her name. No bouncy footfalls coming to find her. She catches only the soft sound of their bedroom door opening and closing.

When she goes to investigate, scrambling over the back of the couch in her hurry, she enters the room to find Scanlan face down on their bed, his face smushed into the sheets. His feet dangle off the edge, and his shoes and jacket are still on. Pike slips into the room, whispering his name, but he does not move to greet her in any way.

He is, at the very least, breathing. Which she notes as she drops a knee onto the bed and leans over him. A hand finds his back and then, after a moment of observation, an exposed stretch of skin where his shirt rode up. Most likely when he made his dramatic flop onto the bed. Crawling up next to him, Pike slides her hand up the back of his shirt and lightly pinches the skin there.

Scanlan groans and wriggles.

Pike furthers her attentions until, with a great huff, he shifts onto his side to face her. He winces as if the action pains him, one eye slower to open than the other. She sees now the bags under his eyes and the hazy sheen over his gaze. His skin feels uncomfortably warm against hers. Her hand coasts down the line of his spine, curves over the jut of his hip bone, and settles on his stomach. The more she touches him, the clearer it becomes: he’s running a fever.

Frowning, Pike drops her head so they can be face-to-face.

“Babe,” she whispers. Scanlan makes a vague noise of acknowledgement. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Totally,” he intones with the slightest slur and, in a further attempt to sell this obvious lie, he smiles. In his defense, smiling usually works for him as a selling point. But, oh, the wonders a fever can do...The stretch of it does not fit his face or reach his eyes, and Pike’s frown deepens.

Would it truly be such a task for him to simply admit he’s feeling unwell?

Her anger builds and dissipates within the same breath of time it takes for Scanlan’s gaze to roll as his expression pales then looks a little lost.

Pike sighs.

There’s not much hope in trying to argue with a feverish boyfriend.

But – she rolls onto her stomach, placing her chin atop laced fingers as she looks down at him – she sees the potential in having a little fun with him.

“Scanlan,” she says sweetly. “You’re burning up.”

Scanlan’s eyes widen. “Oh?” He laughs, a bright burst that trails off midway as if he simply forgot to continue. “Well...you know what they say.”

“No, what do they say?”

“That...That’s the best song by The Jonas Brothers…They got their bodyguard to rap on it...that’s some real musical ingenuity...” Under his breath, he sings a few bars of the song then, lower, a couple more. His voice fades the further into the verses he goes until his voice gives way but his lips continue to form around the words. A feat which Pike watches in amusement and, to be honest, mild amazement. Clearing his throat, he adds at a throaty whisper, “It’s less than 3 minutes long, because if it were any longer, it’d be too powerful.”

While Pike has no claim as any type of musical aficionado, let alone one for The Jonas Brothers, she did once attend a Big Music party with Scanlan. She slurped down an impressive number of shrimp and fancy cocktails with mini fruit kebabs while he spent his evening arguing with a producer that the Jonas Brothers’ ‘Lovebug’ was a musical masterpiece. He got teary eyed. It was incredibly emotional for everyone involved. Especially when he gestured to her in a fit of passion and accidentally knocked the last shrimp out of her hand.

That was truly the lowest point of the evening.

(the highest being when he softly pet her hair and sang ‘Lovebug’ to her in the uber on the way back to their hotel and she forgave him for the shrimp incident.)

If he’s proclaiming any other song as their best, he must be truly and completely Out Of It.

“Alright,” she says with all the authority of a teacher done humoring a wayward kindergarten. “Up we go!”

With a number of well-placed pokes and prods, she gently bullies Scanlan from the bed, sitting him on the edge long enough to help him out of his jacket and shoes. He alternates between continuing his meandering ‘Burnin’ Up’ rendition and pushing feebly at her hands as she herds him towards the bathroom where his protests end. Feverish or not, Scanlan never misses a chance to enjoy a handsy moment. And while holding her boyfriend’s elbow to steady him as he undresses may not be exactly how Pike imagined reacquainting with him this evening, Scanlan’s wonky eyebrow shuffle and honest attempt at seducing her with it negates the worst of her disappointment.

After all, it was a long week, she reminds herself, not a bad one.

Scanlan needs her now, and she can be needed.

She knows how to be that better than she knows how to be most things.

Dutifully, she cracks open the glass shower door and slips a hand through. The water starts with a hiss, speckling her fingers, and she adjusts the knob accordingly. Not too warm as to aggravate his fever nor too cold as to inspire a bout of chills. After years of helping Wilhand with his hygiene care, it’s a non-thought to find the perfect medium.

She turns to see Scanlan swaying, half slumped, against the bathroom counter. A sliver of dread breaks through her focus. Thank Sarenrae that Scanlan decided to order a ride to and from the airport for this trip. The thought of him navigating the mountain roads in such a state chills her. A much greater trouble could have come to her door and blackened her evening.

But, he’s here now, home and close to her arms.

The relief of that is enough to chase away the brief wash of nausea.

She helps him into the shower with a careful hand upon his elbow then leaves him with a stern instruction to save his hair care routine and sweet-smelling soaps for when he’s less lethargic. If anything, he should just sit down on the floor and enjoy the water and steam, she suggests to his heavy-lidded, meandering but still genuinely trying attention. Revitalize, she urges further. He nods, even manages a small smile, and she lingers in the bathroom long enough to watch him lower himself to the floor and turn his face towards the stream.

Back in the bedroom, she busies herself with freshening their sheets with Scanlan’s preferred lavender fabric spray. The pleasant smell builds through the room as she fluffs the pillows and digs through Scanlan’s dresser to gather his pajamas. She deposits them on the bathroom counter during her 5-minute check up. Scanlan has returned to his feet by now. He wipes the condensation from the glass door and the water droplets from his face, eyes brighter than they were during the minutes before she left him.

“Pikey,” he singsongs, a cracked whisper over the whirring fan and cascading water.

Pike hurries from the bathroom before he gets any funny ideas.

(Or, she encourages her own.)

By the time she returns to their room after settling the rest of the apartment for the evening, the shower has stopped. She finds Scanlan half-way into his pajama shirt. He squawks out her name when he sees her, nearly sticking his head through an arm hole. An error that he scrambles to right with a vigor that is heartening to see.

“Don’t strain yourself on my account,” she teases and ducks under one of his flailing arms to reach the medicine cabinet. From it she pulls out the thermometer and, after a considering glance over their selection, a bottle of cold medicine.

“Pike.” Having righted his shirt, Scanlan steps close and lays a hand upon her hip. Water droplets, shaken lose from his hair, splash onto her shoulder and arm as he does so. The wet spots in her pajamas that adhere to her skin are less than ideal, but with a cursory pout at their existence, Pike sighs and lets it be. Scanlan’s usual bathroom routine is over an hour long and includes a thorough brushing and blow drying of his hair. He may be clearer in the eyes, but she supposes he must still be too tired for all that tonight.

Clucking her tongue, Pike shifts and turns into him. Scanlan grins and smoothes his hand against her hip and the other rises to her back. When he opens his mouth to speak, Pike seizes the opportunity to stick the thermometer under his tongue with a quick – “Here”. Surprised by the action and, she’s sure, the unpleasant jab of it, Scanlan coughs and whines but dutifully closes his lips around it in a pout.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Pike singsongs. She grabs his towel from the rack and dries his hair more thoroughly with a series of vigorous scrubs.

“P – _ike_!” Scanlan whines, teeth clamped around the thermometer which beeps just as Pike throws the towel aside again. She plucks it from his lips, giving him a kiss on the cheek for the trouble. Judging by the soft look he gives her and the resuming of his previous stroke upon her hip, it seems to appease him.

His fever is high but not worryingly so. Not in the ‘she’ll need to stay up and continue to check on him throughout the night’ worrying, at least. Popping the cap off the medicine bottle, she double checks the dosage before placing a pill into the palm that he raises expectantly. She gives him another kiss, just for that.

“Okay,” she whispers against his cheek, “You take that, brush your teeth, and get into bed”. When she tries to move away, Scanlan’s hand slides up her back, pulling her closer until she’s giggling against the corner of his lips. “Scanlan,” she says and plants her hands on his stomach. She does not push away yet. For a selfish moment, she instead curls closer, breathing in the smell of him and enjoying the fall and rise of his breathing against her hands. As she sighs, readying her palms, she mumbles into his skin, “I’ll meet you in bed.”

Scanlan shakes his head, nosing at the shell of her ear. The hand upon her back climbs higher. “Stay just a second. I wanna – “ but, with one firm push, Pike escapes back into their room. A sigh follows her, but he does not.

As she pulls back the sheets on her side of the bed, she hears the sound of running water and the buzz of his toothbrush. She smiles and snuggles beneath the sheets. Scanlan emerges minutes later, pausing only to hit the light switch before crawling onto the bed. He bypasses the sheets that she neatly folded over for him and instead collapses dramatically on top of her. Pike giggles, biting her lip as his own laughter – a series breathy chuckles – whisper against the side of her neck.

“Come on, you noodle!” She pushes at his shoulder which moves as directed before flopping back to its original position when she relents. If she wanted, it’d be easy enough to remove him. _If she wanted_. “If you have the strength for dramatics, you have the strength to get into bed properly.”

Scanlan hums and nuzzles closer. “‘is too warm beneath the sheets.”

“But not too warm to cuddle with me?”

“ _Never_.”

If _that’s_ his reasoning, it’ll be only a few minutes before he’s complaining of the cold and retreating, so she allows him his petulance.

Anyway – she dips her head closer to his, her lips pressing into his curls, her fingers at the back of his neck – it’s nice to feel the warmth of him again. To hear the soft sounds of him as he shifts and settles for sleep, little chirps and hums, like a sweet kitten chittering. Though she knows it’s best not to cuddle him, she cannot help but curl closer.

She missed him.

God. She really, _really_ missed him so much.

“Pike.” Scanlan pulls back from her, and – reluctantly – Pike lets him. Her eyes, still adjusting to the darkness, strain to comprehend his expression as he unfurls from the sanctuary of her neck and meets her gaze. “Now that I finally have you in my clutches – “ He slides a hand across her back, coaxing her further into his embrace until their foreheads met. His other hand settles on her hip, fingers sneaking beneath the hem of her night shirt. It’s a deliberate thought not to be distracted. “ – I wanna apologize…”

Pike huffs – half from laughter, half from exasperation. “For what? Being sick?”

“In so many words.”

“Scanlan, it’s – “

“If you’re going to say ‘fine’ or any other word of that variety, I have to disagree.” His eyes do not leave hers, only blinking closed for a moment as he brushes his lips close to hers but does not follow through as if he knows he shouldn’t but couldn’t resist. When he speaks next, his words fall against the corner of her lips. “I know it’s been a tough week. You should have been the one lavished with attention tonight, so...I apologize.”

With his forehead to hers, his fevered skin near unbearable, all-consuming, all around her, it’s hard to ignore that he needs her still. He needs her to make sure he rests well, and he needs her to keep an eye on his temperature. Even now, the back of her hand rises and touches at the warm skin of his cheek, the sliver of forehead he will allow. He needs her, so – He doesn’t need to worry about her. She stares into the deep brown of his eyes and knows that’s exactly what he does not want. She’s been doing her best, but sometimes...It’s just hard to remember she can want things too. She can need.

“I’m – “ She worries her lip between her teeth and tries to look away.

“The minute my body rights itself, it’s gonna be _all_ Pike TLC. I’ll rub your feet and you can tell me about all the little, stupid things that went wrong and how much they sucked. I’ll draw you a bath – candles and that instrumental playlist you like so much – so you can relax while I make you dinner. How does that sound…? Hm?”

She nods. Her eyes still try to look anywhere but in his, and maybe it’s the fever running through him, but her skin shivers and burns in the space between one breath and the next.

He laughs, smile bright despite the dark. “No, tell me, Pikey. What do you want?”

She kisses him – quickly, though she wants otherwise. “You,” she mumbles, pressing soft kisses to the dip above his lip, the curve of his cheek, the space between his brow, everywhere and anywhere upon his face her lips can touch. “I just want you here. And, I don’t want you to leave again for a long, long time, but the next time you do, I want to go with you. I want the foot rub, yes. And I want the bath too but I want you there between my legs and under my hands. I want to make dinner together. But, most importantly, right now I want you to rest up and feel better...so then you can make me feel better.” She digs her fingers into his curls and pulls. She swears, beyond the thrumming of her blood in her ears, she hears him groan. When she kisses his neck, there’s no mistaking the guttural rumble of it beneath her lips. She grins. “Okay?”

“I will, baby. I’ll make you feel however you want to feel,” Scanlan whispers, and his hands feel like they’re everywhere on her; it’s just what she wants.

Alas –

Sliding her palm up his chest, she gives him a firm push until he’s on his back next to her. With a giggle at his dumbfounded expression, she pats the pillow under his head and chirps, “Good, but...Until then – Rest.”

Scanlan sighs, wriggling and throwing her his best puppy-dog eyes. “I might need a bit.”

Pike tucks her head against his shoulder, melting back into his embrace as she laughs. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to get you all worked up for nothing, but – I mean, really, it’s your fault for asking. If you think about it…”

“Oh, sure, it’s _my_ fault, but you sure _wanted_ to…”

Oh, boy, she sure, sure did.

**Author's Note:**

> until next update, catch me @[tameila](http://tameila.tumblr.com/)! ☀︎


End file.
